believe you, it’s simply that if there’s any indication that you would try to hurt yourself, it’s my duty as your therapist to protect you. Even though I’m happy that you’ve gained a new perspective, I want to talk about the fact that you’ve told me you find it difficult to open up to anyone about your feelings. As you’ve learnt during your time here, how we feel affects everything that we do – and that includes your ability to stay clean once you leave The Ranch.’
‘I’ve told you, I’m a private person. I like to deal with stuff alone.’
‘And I get that, Electra, I do, but by agreeing to join us here, you were accepting that you needed help from others. And I’m concerned that once you step back out into the “real” world, you won’t ask for it when you need it.’
‘We’ve talked about my trust issues. I guess it’s just that.’
‘Yes, and I accept that like any celebrity, it’s a natural issue to have. However, you’ve seemed particularly reluctant to discuss your childhood.’
‘I’ve told you I was adopted along with my five siblings. That we had a privileged lifestyle . . . there’s not a lot more to it than that. Besides, Pa always taught me never to look back. Even though that’s what therapy seems to be all about.’
‘Therapy is all about dealing with the past, so you don’t need to look back any longer, Electra. And your childhood is two-thirds of the life you’ve lived so far.’
I gave my usual shrug and inspected my naked nails and thought how well they were growing now that I had stopped chewing on them. We then had what I termed a ‘battle of the silences’; it was a war that I knew I could win anytime. And I regularly did.
‘So, would you say that your father was the most powerful influence in your life?’ Fi finally piped up.
‘Maybe. Aren’t all parents?’
‘Often, yes, though sometimes it can be another relative or sibling who fulfils that role. You told me your father was away a lot during your childhood?’
‘Yeah, he was. But all of my sisters worshipped him, and as I was the youngest, I guess I followed their lead.’
‘I’d bet it’s a tough deal to be bottom of the pile of six girls,’ said Fi. ‘I’m one of four girls, but I was the eldest.’
‘Lucky you.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because . . . I don’t know. My two eldest sisters have always been in charge and the rest of them always fell into line. All except me.’
‘You were the rebel?’
‘I guess. But not on purpose,’ I replied, wary of the fact that Fi was drawing me into territory I just did not want to talk about.
‘Was that when you were a teenager?’
‘No, I think I was born a rebel; they all told me I screamed the house down when I was a baby. They used to call me “Tricky” – I heard Ally and Maia talking about me one day when I was four or five. I went and hid in the gardens and cried my eyes out.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘I got over it. No big deal. All siblings call each other names, don’t they?’
‘Yes, they do. So, what were your other sisters’ nicknames?’
‘I . . . don’t remember.’ I looked up at the clock on the wall. ‘I have to go now. I have equine therapy at three.’
‘Okay, we’ll wrap for today,’ Fi said, even though I had ten minutes of my allotted session left. ‘But your task for tonight is to continue with your mood diary and focus on what your triggers were for cravings. And how about you also think back if you can remember those nicknames for your other sisters?’
‘Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
I got up from the chair and walked out of the room, irritated that we both knew that I wouldn’t remember any nicknames for my sisters because there had never been any. As I walked along the therapy corridor into the main reception area and out into the blinding light of the Arizona sun, I gave that round to Fi. Oh, she was good, really good, leading me into traps of my own making. As I had a few minutes to spare, I headed for my new favourite place: the Worry Maze – a circular brick path that led you round and round in a different direction each time, depending on which way you chose to turn at any given point. It felt